


There's a silver lining to this mess (right?)

by dramaticbanjo



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, featuring obito's two unnamed cats and awful ugly apron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 05:38:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14846820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramaticbanjo/pseuds/dramaticbanjo
Summary: The old "I got drunk and decided to climb through my friend's apartment window but I mixed up the addresses so I climbed in through yours and fell asleep on the couch, so now I'm hungover and shirtless on your couch so hey how ya' doin'?"In other news, Yahiko would like to Die.





	There's a silver lining to this mess (right?)

            It wasn’t everyday Obito woke up to a hung-over shirtless guy in his apartment’s living room. Evidently, the other hadn’t been expecting him either, and they stared at each other for an awkward minute, while one of Obito’s cats made themselves comfortable on the stranger’s lap.

            “Oh my god.” The stranger’s hoarse voice broke the silence, his expression turning horrified, “Oh my god, this isn’t Konan’s apartment.” Obito spared a thought that the cat-themed pajama pants were probably the least impressive thing to meet him in, but the other man looked like he was having enough of crisis without seeing what Obito was wearing. “Oh my god, I climbed in through your window since I was drunk and left my keys with Nagato…” He covered his face with his hands, “I am so, so sorry.”

            “It’s—well, I guess—don’t worry about it?” Obito managed to sputter out, still a little distracted that an attractive stranger had climbed into his living room over night—minus his shirt, of course, because Obito had long since accepted his fate as the worst kind of bisexual mess. He scratched the back of his head nervously, part of him wishing he had grabbed his eye patch to put on when he woke up, since his scarred face _probably_ wasn’t helping Handsome Hung-Over Couch Man. Meanwhile, Obito’s other cat decided to join them, walking right past her owner to join the other cat on the couch. Deciding his cats were traitors and _not helping_ , Obito cleared his throat, “I’ll—uh—get you the phone. Your friend’s probably worried.” Getting his legs to move so he didn’t look like an idiot, Obito made his way the few feet to the receiver, placed the phone on the old coffee table, and made a hasty retreat back to his bedroom to change out of his _horribly embarrassing_ cat pajamas.

When Obito returned, dressed better for the day, all taken care of with his eye patch on, and carrying the bottle of painkillers from his bathroom, his guest was still on the phone.

Well, Obito mentally amended, _kind of_ still on the phone.

The other man was holding it away from his ear with a pained expression on his face, and his lap taken up by both cats. From the speaker, someone was speaking very angrily and very loudly, punctuating their rant every so often with, _“Are you listening, Yahiko?!”_

Obito winced at the tone of voice, which sounded all too much like Kakashi or Rin—or both of them—when they went into full lecture mode. Yahiko looked up gratefully when he set a glass of water down, followed by the painkillers.

            _“Don’t move or do anything, Yahiko. I’m heading to pick you up with your crap now. Hand over the phone so I can get the address.”_ Even through the phone’s speaker, the tone broke no arguments, so Yahiko shrugged ruefully, and handed it over to Obito, before swallowing a painkiller with a gulp of water.

            “Sorry about my friend.” A woman’s voice said when he put the phone against his ear, “I have…okay, I have no idea how he ended up in your living room.”

            “It’s al—it’s fine, no harm, no foul.” Obito assured her, “Really. Nothing’s broken, and my cats aren’t freaked out.” On the other end, she sighed, “I still feel a bit bad. Can I get your address? I can pick him up and get him out of your hair.” As he recited his address for her, Obito decided she would get along well with Rin; they both had an exasperated yet caring attitude that could only be gotten by spending time with people you both loved dearly but the same people drove you up the wall. When she hung up, Yahiko was leaning back on the couch, one arm up to cover his eyes, glass of water empty.

            “She seems mad at you.”

            “No kidding—she is never going to let me forget this. Ever.” Yahiko paused for a moment, before holding out the glass with his free hand, “…Can I have some more water?”

            “Oh, yeah. Sure. I’m Obito, by the way.” He added, and Yahiko gave a groan to show he heard, and an attempt at a thumbs up.

From the small kitchen area, Obito glanced back at him, “I’ve got a question.”

            “Shoot. And yes, all my piercings are real, if that’s it.”

Obito made a thoughtful noise, “Okay. So, why were you going to climb through your friend’s window? Pretty sure there’s usually a door.”

            “Left my keys with Nagato, so it seemed like a great idea. Well, a great idea at the time.” Obito snorted, “Of course.” Returning to the couch, he set the refilled glass in Yahiko’s hand, “How hung over are you feeling? Because if you can keep something down, I can make breakfast.” Yahiko’s mouth curled into a smirk, although he didn’t his arm over his eyes, “Do you make breakfast for everyone who breaks into your apartment?”

            “Only if my cats like them. I know some hangover cure food.”

            “Then yes. Yes, please and thank you.”

That’s how Obito found himself standing at the stove, wearing a garish ‘kiss the cook’ apron (a joke gift from Kakashi, naturally), frying bacon. Both of his cats had left Yahiko’s lap to circle around his feet like hungry sharks, letting Yahiko get up to go to the bathroom and properly wake up. When he came back, he moved from the couch to the small table, taking a seat at one of the chairs to nurse the rest of his water. With the ease of someone who has had to make this sort of food many times in the past, Obito deftly slid the finished eggs onto the waiting pieces of toast, pushing his cats out of the way with his foot so he could finish the sandwiches.

            “Careful, the egg just came off the pan.”

Yahiko looked up as a plate was set in front of him, and said a small thanks. It seemed like Obito hadn’t noticed he had kept glancing at him while he was cooking, which Yahiko was _extremely_ thankful of; he had already broken in and slept on his couch, he didn’t want to make it Obito’s impression of him _worse_ by catching him checking the other out. Part of Yahiko was still mortified about everything that had happened, and Obito being so nice was only _slightly_ easing it. He was also absolutely sure another part of his brain had to be still drunk because he had just met Obito—in possibly one of the least flattering ways—and that fact was in no way putting a damper on said part of his brain, which was ecstatic about a cute guy with two cats making him breakfast.

            “Say,” Yahiko began through a mouthful of egg, “How come you didn’t ask me why I was drinking so much I got the idea to climb through someone’s apartment window and sleep on their couch?” Obito’s eyebrows, the one that was visible at least, rose, not expecting another question, “I am,” He paused to swallow what was in his mouth, before continuing to answer, “Very familiar with getting _that_ drunk. And dealing with people who get that drunk.” He gestured with the remaining sandwich in his hands, “Hence, making this.”

            “What, even the building-climbing-while-shirtless?”

            “One of my friends is a natural gymnast, I’ve seen him flip off of everything he can climb on. Which was actually pretty funny.” Obito snorted at the memory, and Yahiko suddenly became very interested in eating the rest of his sandwich, caught by surprise by the small smile on the other’s face. As Konan always snarked, he was, and would always be, the worst kind of bisexual mess, and he was only proving her right.

            A few minutes after the food was finished, there was a knock at the door, and Yahiko grimaced, “That’s probably Konan. She’s never going to let me live this down…” Obito held back a chuckle at the other’s expression, as he picked up the plates, holding them out of the way as the cats made valiant attempts to reach them and check if there was any bacon left on them, “To be fair, I wouldn’t let you forget it either.”

            “Yeah, I still feel bad about it…” There was a second knock, which meant Konan was in a bad mood, probably from him, “How about I make it up to you?”

            “And I said it’s fine, really, you don’t have to do anything since nothing bad happened.” Obito set the plates in the sink by only slightly slowing his steps, and then walking to the door to answer it. Yahiko swallowed, “Well, _I_ would feel better—even if I just, maybe, took you out for coffee?”

            “Sure, then, that’d be great.” Obito’s back was to him, his hand on the door knob, but Yahiko could see the tips of his ears were red, “How about tomorrow?”

            “Great! Sounds, uh, great!”

 

            Outside of the apartment building, Konan’s expression turned smug at the the crinkled post-it note in his hand, “Oh? Something interesting happen?”

            “You’re…not going to ever let me forget this, are you?”

            “Me? Torment my dear childhood friend about the time he got drunk, climbed in through a stranger’s window, and then managed to get a date with them the next morning? Why _ever_ would I do that?”

His attempts at a withering look just made her laugh, and he pouted, “Well…well, whatever. I’ve got a date tomorrow. And his phone number.”

            “Congratulations, Yahiko.” Her voice was both amused and sincere, “Are you going to wear a shirt this time?” From his expression, she started laughing again, having to stop walking as she doubled over. Somehow, the teasing from his friend wasn’t enough to squash his good mood, even when Konan later told Nagato the whole thing, and his pale friend had given him the incredulous look possible—although he couldn’t help but wish they would drop the jokes about him being shirtless.

**Author's Note:**

> Let's get back into writing, I said, how hard can I be, I said.  
> Maybe I'll write something cool, I said, and then picked up my pen and wrote goddamn Naruto fanfiction.


End file.
